


Goodnight

by PatterCake



Category: Infinity Train (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Hurt and comfort, I ironically wrote this instead of sleeping, Nightmares, post cannon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:09:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26463202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatterCake/pseuds/PatterCake
Summary: Grace gets some unexpected comfort from her normally cold and distant mother.
Relationships: Grace Monroe & Mrs. Monroe, parent and child - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Goodnight

**Author's Note:**

> note: this takes place after Grace has returned home after getting her exit.

Grace tossed around in her sleep as her dream tortured her. She’d had nightmares her entire time on the train- of the steward, the ghoms and all the other terrifying things she’d had to face. But it had been alright because in the morning Simon had always been there to comfort her. 

But now it was Simon that haunted her nightmares like a ghost. Sometimes appearing as the innocent seeming friend she’d wanted him to be, but mostly as the violent person he’d always really been. When she closed her eyes he was always waiting for her in her mind, ready to twist and distort her in the one place she should be safe from him. She’s escaped from the train and she’d escaped from him but she would always have to carry the mental scars of what he did with her. 

When he was a boy he’d promised he’d always be with her but she hadn’t wanted it to happen like that. 

Grace jolted awake and lay there gasping. A single crack of light fell on her as the door opened. She turned her head and saw her mother standing silhouetted in the doorway. She was wrapped in a lilac silk dressing down with her sleeping bonnet askew on her head and her wide white eyes shining in her frightened face. 

“Grace?” she asked softly, “Grace are you alright?” 

Grace didn’t say anything. 

Her mother slowly made her way to the bed and knelt down on the floor to be eye level with her. Grace braced herself for a scolding.

“What’s wrong?” her mother asked. 

“I don't know!” Grace said defensively, “There's so much that was wrong I don't even know where to start. There's so much you don't know about me. And there's so much I don't know if you can ever understand.” 

Her mother had been what got her on the train. At the time Grace had assumed the neglect she suffered was something normal, or even worse, something she deserved. It wasn’t until she had other children to look after that she realised how badly she’d been treated. The Apex kids talked about the parents that they’d left behind and they didn’t use words like “closed off” “absent” “never there for me” “disapproving” “unsupportive” “strict” and the other multitude of adjectives Grace could come up with off the top of her head. They would talk about parents that simply loved them. No strings attached, no conditions, just simply… loved them. 

A loving parent was a difficult role for Grace to fill and she felt huge guilt over the harm she’d caused those children, but at least she could safely say she’d never put them through what she went through. She’d never isolated them, never belittled them and never made them feel so desperate to escape that they’d jump on a train that pulled up out of nowhere and stay there for eight years. 

Anger bubbled up inside her as she remembered the train and Simon and everything that he put her through. If it hadn't been for her mother none of that would have happened to her. If her mother had just done her job as a parent she wouldn’t be here covered in sweat in a bedroom she hadn’t slept in in years. She’d be in college or work or somewhere else- maybe a famous dancer already. It was ironic that the same person who had such grandiose plans for her had ruined her future. 

Grace’s mother reached out a hand to touch her as her daughter silently fumed but dropped it. She fiddled with the expensive bed sheet as she thought of what to say to her. All those years Grace had been away and she refused to give her any details- she’d thought Grace was just wary of her, or still processing what happened, or something else. It hadn’t occurred to her that she just didn’t know where to start. 

“Maybe you can just take it one thing at a time?” 

“How?” Grace snapped. Of course her mother thought it was so easy to just start- just pick a trauma at random Grace, was that what she was trying to say? “How am I meant to start?” 

“How about you start with whatever’s bothering you.” 

Grace fiddled with her blanket and then dropped it as soon as she realised what she was doing. That was a mannerism her mother had. While it was just a tiny thing the way she’d so easily and thoughtlessly copied her was distressing. She didn’t ever want to be like her mother, not anymore. And she hadn’t for a long time. 

But… her mother wasn’t like she remembered her. She wasn’t being cold towards her, she hadn’t chastised her for her hairstyle or clothes even once and here she was now- kneeling next to her bed and doing what she would’ve scoffed at as a “Nanny’s job” years ago. Grace had always operated by figuring people out and then carefully choosing how to interact with them. But she couldn’t figure her mother out anymore. And it scared her. “It's bothering me that you're being so nice.” she stated flatly. 

Her mother was taken aback and she sadly drew her dressing down around her. She sighed. “I know I… haven’t been the nicest mother to you in the past but I am who I am Grace. I can't give you more than that.” 

“I never asked for more than that!” Grace shot back, “I always wanted you- the real you. I never asked for you to be perfect or talented or-or better than other people for me to love you. That was always you. I was who I was but you wanted more.” Grace stopped speaking and fought back the tears that had stubbornly welled up in her eyes. She’d spent so many years striving for everyone’s approval- so many wasted years. “And now that I like who I am I'm not gonna let you take it away from me again.”

“You were wronged.” Her mother admitted quietly. 

“I know. I know I was wronged.” Grace muttered. “I already know that it's not my fault- even though everyone else seems to think it is. It doesn't make it any easier.” Then again, neither had denying it. 

“I'm sorry.” her mother said hoarsely. 

“I'm sorry for me too.” Grace said flippantly. 

Grace turned away and waited for her to leave.

“I really am sorry Grace.” her mother whispered, “Looking back there’s a lot I should’ve done differently. I always thought I was giving you the best but I realise now there was a lot I didn’t give you. We were never very close and I always thought that when you were older I could make it up to you. I didn’t know that our time together was nearly over. I didn’t know that you were going to grow up without me.” she admitted and wiped her nose with her sleeve quickly. 

Grace had rolled back over to look at her mother pityingly while she poured her heart out. As she looked at her she started to notice little things- her mother had always had the most expensive well done nails but now her hands ended in her natural fingernails and there were coffee stains going down the side of her gown. Maybe it was the dark, or the lack of makeup but her mother’s face was more wrinkled and worn than she remembered. It was more genuine somehow. 

Her mother delicately dabbed at the sides of her eyes with her sleeve and Grace smiled. It seemed some things would never change. 

“I know things were hard for you, and that you’ve been through so much but what did you think I was doing the eight years you were gone?” she continued in a broken voice, “You think they went by quickly? I spent all those years pouring over everything that I’d done and said just wishing I could go back and stop you from leaving that police station.” Her mother covered her face but Grace still caught sight of the tears in her eyes. She breathed shakily for a while and then whispered, “Money can’t buy you your child back.” 

Her mother touched her face and hair as if to reassure herself that Grace was real and back with her. “Which is why I’m so happy you’re back. So please don’t leave me alone again.” 

Grace had been the caretaker in most of her relationships- with Simon, the Apex, Hazel so she instinctively thought of how to comfort her. But then she stopped. Why should she? That wasn’t what her mother was here for. She hadn’t come here to grovel to her, she was here because she was… worried about her. It was an unfamiliar concept to Grace but it was true. She looked at her mother, who was intently staring at her with concern.

It was her turn to be taken care of now. 

“There's another thing that's bothering me.” Grace admitted. Her mother raised her eyebrows and waited for her to continue. 

“I… this is the first time in a long while that I've slept alone. I mean in a room alone. First there was…” Grace decided she wasn’t ready to talk about Simon so she trailed off uncomfortably, “and then there was the Apex kids. And now that I'm by myself again I don't know how to do it. It's…”

Without the comforting sound of their breathing, their warmth and their presence Grace felt exposed. She felt vulnerable. She felt lonely. 

“I don't want to be alone.” she confessed. 

Grace’s mother lay down beside her. Slowly, Grace reached out her hand and closed the distance between them as her mother said the words she should’ve said eight years ago: “I’m here for you.” 


End file.
